Page 40 of Bad Moon Rising

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He zipped the jacket to his neck, so he really had been cold. With his level of body fat, I could see why. I said, “We’re going to the other side of the valley and come across those hills to the rear of that farmhouse.”

“And?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.” He didn’t ask more questions. We piled in the Navigator to retrace our route until we were beyond the valley and had another range of larger, steeper hills between us. We parked and used Google Maps on our phones to work out which path to use. Once we had it, we started the climb. I stopped once to call Derek, but got no answer, so I left a quick voicemail and a text with the GPS position.

We climbed the ridge and found a descending trail that offered brush and trees between the house and us all the way to the cluster of boulders. The temperature continued to drop so that smoke came out our mouths when we breathed. I studied the house for a moment and saw what I needed to see.

Hondo said, “What are you looking for?”

“The back door. See? They have it padlocked on the outside. That’s perfect.”

“I’m not following you.”

“I’m going on the roof and stuff your jacket into the chimney, force all of them to come out the front, where you’ll be waiting with your Sig and your nipsters.” He took off his jacket and tossed it to me. I looked at his chest, “Fabio is jealous of you right now.”

He ignored my comment and said, “You going to help, or stay on the roof and applaud.”

“I shall descend on the unjust like a plague from Heaven.” I saw his look. “I’m gonna jump on them when they exit the door. See? I told you, this plan is epic.”

He went around the corner, crawling on hands and knees to stay below the windows.

I took off my jacket, and the cold hit me. It felt like hugging a block of ice. I shivered. Goose bumps popped up on my arms. It was cold. I tossed the jackets on the roof and went to one of the large oaks, climbing up and using one of the massive branches extending over the roof. It appeared in good shape, so I didn’t worry about falling through. I lowered to the roof and eased slow and quiet towards the brick chimney, which had a nice, thick stream of white smoke rising into the sky. I stood by it for a moment before stuffing the two jackets in the opening, pushing them down a foot inside so they fit tightly. No

more smoke lifted into the air.

I moved to the front side of the house and knelt at the lip of the roof. The interior sounded quiet for ten full seconds before I picked up several muffled voices rising in irritation. I heard them fumbling around, trying to unstop the chimney, then lots of coughing and voices of alarm. I readied for the jump.

The door opened and a ball of white smoke boiled out and rose in front of me. I smelled it, the pleasant smell of oak as it ascended.

The front door squeaked open and women staggered outside. The two black men emerged last, hacking and coughing as they rubbed their eyes and noses. The two men staggered like drunks, moving to the side of the yard, stopping eight feet from the door. One wiped snot from his nose and retched. I decided to take him down first.

Leaning my head and shoulders slightly forward over the edge, balancing on the balls of my feet, I pushed off with my legs. I sailed high and came down with my knees aimed like twin battering rams to collide with the man’s shoulder blades and put him on the ground. I saw Hondo come around the corner, going for the other one.

That instant of me glancing away threw a big fat monkey wrench into my great plan.

My coughing target suddenly bent forward at the waist and vomited just before my knees reached his back. I flailed my arms as my knees shot past his shoulders and hit empty air. My feet caught on them, flipping me in a spastic somersault.

I tried to go with it, tucking tight and increasing the spin, hoping to land on my feet. I hit the hard bare earth in an awkward splay-legged limbo dance and rolled my right ankle to the outside. I heard it pop, and went to the dust in a crumpled heap.

The big guy’s eyes bugged at me, and he straightened, still staring like I’d dropped in from outer space. All the women screamed and huddled together.

I pushed to a standing position and hopped on the good leg, staggering around like a beginner on a pogo stick. I steadied after a half dozen hops, and stood that way while keeping the injured foot a foot off the ground. Shock held the pain at bay momentarily.

The big guy’s eyes locked on mine. They turned from surprised to furious. I glanced at Hondo, hoping for help, but he looked busy with the other one.

That’s when my ankle decided to become a traitor. White-hot pain swelled in my ankle like a silent explosion.

It took my breath. My mouth opened to yell, but it hurt so much that nothing came out. I lifted my foot higher to cradle the ankle in my hands, like that would help anything.

That’s when the big guy wiped vomit from his lips and came at me with his fists up and ready.

I thought fast, and an image from a movie came to mind. I raised my arms high above my head, angling my hands forward from the wrists like snakeheads as I lifted the knee waist high while still balancing on the good leg.

The big guy advanced on me like a heavy-footed bear, his feet puffing up dust at every step. He drew one fist back to his ear for a punch.

I timed it right and one-legged hopped into the air as I snapped a powerful kick at his head. My foot caught him coming in and landed under his chin so solidly it clacked his teeth together. They sounded like castanets.

His head snapped back and almost touched his spine as spittle and small bits of teeth flew from his mouth. The big fellow toppled backward like a slow falling tree while I landed on the same leg I used to kick him. My good foot landed before he hit on his back in a puff of dust. He didn’t need a ten count.


Tags: Billy Kring Mystery